Moreover, so scared were they at the proximity of the dreaded Duitsters that they were practically useless, except to gather firewood, look after the camp, and steal every bit of tobacco, sugar, etc., they could lay hands on.
About a mile upstream a faint track showed where the German patrol from Stolzenfels at rare intervals took a turn round this remote portion of their frontier, and it was interesting to note that for miles this path of theirs ran well within British territory. However, we saw nothing of them, and after days of fruitless scrambling in the wild ravines and precipitous slopes of our own side of the line, we made a systematic search of all we could cover of theirs. Day after day we started at daybreak, dividing our forces and meeting at prearranged spots, each taking a little food and water for the day and returning only at nightfall.
THE MAIN FALL, GREAT FALLS OF THE ORANGE.
The cliff opposite is about 450 to 500 feet.
In German territory the mountains were higher than upstream, their tops wide spaces of flat tableland covered with koker-boomen.
From the riverwards edges of these plateaux a vast panorama stretched on every side. Upstream the winding Orange lay like a blue ribbon fallen between a wilderness of bare and riven rocks, the only vegetation visible being the thin dark line of trees lining the actual river-banks, and this in many places entirely disappearing where the cliffs that pent in the water gave no footing for even a plant to cling. For many miles the river was unapproachable, and from these high mountain-tops from which we viewed its course, a long and difficult detour would be necessary before the thirsty traveller could reach a drop of water. As far as the eye could reach in any direction no sign of habitation or of life could be seen; all was silent, desolate, and infinitely lonely.
Our food ran short, and awkwardly enough the only game seemed to be on the German side, where we were chary of shooting; for sound travels far in this region, and the last thing we wished for was a visit from a German patrol. Their nearest post was a bare twenty miles east as the crow flies, but twenty miles of as rough country as can be found in the rough north-west, and therefore a good two days’ trek away. We found many things: copper, galena, and more precious minerals; but search as we would, we could not find the spot we were looking for. Yet even to the last day our hopes ran high; for whatever the origin of Brydone’s narrative may have been, there was proof positive to be found in these gullies that somewhere in the vicinity Kimberlite pipes actually exist.
On one of the flat-topped mountains well within German territory we came upon the remains of a Hottentot bivouac, evidently dating from the time when Marengo and Simon Cooper fought the Germans here. Scattered about amongst the bushes were odds and ends of clothing, German ration-tins, etc., and in one heap I found the gilt hilt of a German sword, and a pair of binoculars which had been battered and smashed to try and get at the prisms.
In one of the ravines where a thick bush known as haak doorn (hook thorn) abounded we found more gruesome relics in the shape of skeletons, firmly entangled in the thickest part of the bush, where they had apparently been thrown as living men.